The Citadel

Chapter 4
Castle in the Sky

General Cadrio had spent many a night on the battlefield, sleeping to the mournful moans of wounded and dying men. Yet here in the silent walls of Atriun, a sense of unease had assailed him all night. The lanky commander didn’t blame the castle for his restlessness; that fault lay with Valkyn. Few people other than Ariakas or the Blue Lady had ever unsettled the vulpine-visaged soldier as much as the deathly cheerful spellcaster did.

Now, dressed and impatient, Cadrio departed his chambers. Two sentries outside his door stood at attention. Even in the sanctum of a so-called ally, Cadrio took no chances.

“The pig was just here, sir,” one guard informed him, meaning Lemual. “You left orders not to be disturbed before this hour, so I sent him away, General.”

“You did quite right, Syl.” Cadrio’s alert eyes took in his surroundings. “And what did that poor excuse of a cleric want?”

“To tell you that the wizard wants to see you in the courtyard.”

“The courtyard?” The general had expected to finally see what lurked below the castle. “Curious.”

His guards flanking him, Cadrio made his way to the courtyard, wondering what Valkyn had in mind. The commander wore his helmet but kept the visor up. Outside, the rest of his men awaited him, weapons at attention. They filed into place as their general passed, creating a small but efficient fighting force ready to react at his command.

As they emerged into the courtyard, Cadrio noted Valkyn at work on a tripod with two small gems at the top. The wizard was being aided by two gargoyles, which had to be Crag and Stone. The pair reminded him that there were other creatures about, probably watching his group from above.

“Valkyn! Another delay?” He had the satisfaction of seeing that his arrival had slightly startled the robed figure. Good! Let Valkyn see how it felt.

The wizard, of course, recovered quickly. “By no means! You are just in time, my general.” He turned his attention to the gargoyles. “This is ready now. Take it out to the spot marked. Position it carefully. Understand?”

The pair nodded. Crag tried to shove Stone aside and take hold of the device, but the other gargoyle would have none of it, snapping at his larger counterpart. The two might have fought, but Valkyn suddenly reached into the confines of his robe and pulled out a dark red wand with a small golden sphere made of crystal set at the end. Stone saw the wand first and immediately subsided. Crag, intent on his rival, yelped in sudden pain as the bearded mage touched one of his wings with the sphere.

“I will brook no more of this. Go!”

Chastised, the two gargoyles quickly lifted the device.

“Gently! Gently!”

Now more cautious, Crag and Stone fluttered into the air, the tripod between them. Cadrio watched the creatures vanish over the wall, curious as to the item’s function but determined not to ask.

“Always fighting with one another,” Valkyn remarked. “They can be like children.”

Children? These monsters? The general recognized deadly rivals. Those atop the castle were a different band than those lurking in the wooded garden. Only the wizard’s power kept the groups at bay, but Cadrio wondered if that would someday prove insufficient. As with so many things, Valkyn played a risky game when it came to mastery of the creatures.

“Lemual should be done soon, I think, and then we can all ride out to the safety point and begin.”

Interest replaced concern. “You’re certain you can deliver what you promised? You can give me the weapon I need?”

Energetic blue eyes gazed his way in amusement. “I would stake my life on it, my general … and I do, don’t I?”

Some of Cadrio’s men shifted uneasily, all too familiar with their commander’s preferred method for punishing failure. No doubt they imagined Valkyn’s head on a pike. “We’re allies, Valkyn, a precious commodity in this war.”

“The war is over, my general. This is for our own personal gain. My research and your empire …”

The statement led General Cadrio to ask a question that had nagged him since Valkyn had first materialized in his tent shortly after the emperor’s death. “Why me, mage? I know why I agreed to this alliance, but why did you choose me? You could’ve sided with the Blue Lady, Kitiara.” Cadrio imagined her lithe body, a tool used to entice so many to her banner. “She would have rewarded you handsomely … in more than riches.”

Valkyn’s countenance momentarily darkened. “I’ve no interest in such pleasures, General. My work is my life now.”

“But still-”

“I chose you, Cadrio, because you once served another general, however briefly. Do you know the name Culthairai?”

Culthairai. It rang a distant bell. A region as obscure as Atriun, overrun early in the war. He had served under a general born in Culthairai … a General Krynos, a giant of a man at about seven feet. Ambitious, once thought to be the next Dragon Highlord, Krynos and nearly all his command had been wiped out by a singularly effective plague rumored to have been spread by a dying Solamnic knight. “You speak of Krynos?”

“You survived. He did not.”

Cadrio remembered his good fortune. “Ariakas needed to fill a position left by the death of another general. Krynos had recommended me before. I left with three men. The next I heard, he and most of his force had fallen.”

“My brother, had he lived, would have been my choice, General Cadrio. I’ve decided that you, who knew his ways, will do.”

Krynos’s brother … Cadrio could see some of the dead general’s manner in the wizard. What sort of land had Culthairai been that it would groom for the world such a pair?

Valkyn clasped his gloved hands together, his tone once more exuberant. He seemed to switch emotions readily, either a sign of madness-in the soldier’s opinion, common among wizards-or a hint that the faces he wore were all masks. “And here comes Lemual! We can begin!”

The pig-faced cleric ran toward them. One of the gargoyles perched nearby took a swipe at him as he passed, and although the creature clearly could not reach him, Lemual ducked in terror.

“Come, come, Lemual! Try to put on a brave face in front of General Cadrio!”

“What, by the emperor, is wrong with him? I’ve never known a cleric to cringe so! What’s happened to his backbone?”

“Lemual suffered an accident of faith, or perhaps the lack of it. Happened during one of my earlier experiments. He proves useful, especially now that the grand experiment is at hand.”

“Useful … as a cleric?”

Instead of answering him, Valkyn turned to the oncoming figure. “Well, Lemual, shall we begin?”

“Yes … I suppose so.”

Narrow blue eyes shrank to slits. “Are you absolutely certain? Everything must be in place.”

Lemual swallowed. “Yes … yes, I’m certain, Valkyn!”

“Excellent!” The wizard looked toward the castle, then clapped his hands twice. “Go!”

The gargoyles abandoned Atriun en masse. Cadrio doubled his estimate of the number of gargoyles at Valkyn’s beck and call. Two hundred or more.

When the last had flown clear, Valkyn looked up at the central tower. Cadrio expected to see nothing up there save perhaps a lingering gargoyle or two, but instead he noticed a cowled figure, nearly a shadow, gazing down at the party.

The wizard pointed the wand at the murky form. Cadrio blinked as the mysterious figure drifted back out of sight.

“Who was that? Who else is here, Valkyn?”

“No one of concern, my general. Now, come! Let us get our mounts!”

“But where are the other mages and clerics? Shouldn’t they be with us, to chant the proper spells together?”

“I don’t require such things.”

“But Lord Ariakas’s design-”

Valkyn waved off the late emperor’s work. “Crude, time-consuming, and inefficient. My design eliminates much of the potential for costly mistakes, my general. Lemual and I will be sufficient for the task. Now, we really must be going!”

Two of Cadrio’s men brought forth the soldiers’ steeds. Lemual retrieved a pair of mounts for Valkyn and himself. The cleric’s horse looked as nondescript as its rider, but the spellcaster’s animal proved to be a furious white devil that stood at least a hand taller than even the general’s massive stallion. The other horses shied away from the beast, who snorted when anyone other than his master or Lemual drew near.

With Valkyn leading, the band departed for a hilly field to the south. It stood atop a ridge that gave them an excellent view of the entire domain.

Stone and Crag awaited them there. Valkyn dismounted and quickly inspected the tripod. “All is in place. Good.”

The wizard pulled his hood up, then brought forth the wand. He looked at General Cadrio and the rest, who remained near their horses. “Come, come, General! Surely you will want to see this!”

“Damon, watch the horses. The rest of you, come with me.” The wary commander led his guards to where Valkyn stood.

The cheerful wizard pointed at Atriun. “Watch, my general! Watch as I give you your victory!”

He took the wand and touched the sphere at the end to the ones on the tripod. Beside him, Lemual flinched, almost as if he expected the crystals to explode. Instead, both the one on the wand and those on the tripod began to sparkle with magical energy, growing more golden. Even when Valkyn pulled the wand back, the glow about the spheres increased until it became almost blinding.

Cadrio felt the hairs on his neck rise. His entire body seemed charged. He glanced at his men, saw that they, too, experienced the unsettling sensation.

“Lemual! Do your part!”

“Valkyn! Reconsider what you have in mind.”

The dark mage thrust the wand toward the cleric. “Do it!”

To Cadrio’s shock, the trembling cleric placed a hand on each of the crackling globes. Lemual screamed, but a single look from the wizard kept him from removing his hands. The general sniffed, noting the all too familiar smell of burning flesh.

“Now, Lemual!”

“She has abandoned me, I tell you!”

“Your faith abandoned her! She’ll give you what you want in this case, if only you believe!”

Whether the suffering cleric had truly regained his belief in Takhisis or simply feared Valkyn more, somehow Lemual summoned power. Cadrio saw his lips move, perhaps an incantation or prayer. Pain clearly wracked the man, but he did not stop.

Valkyn began to mutter, his eyes now fixed upon the wand’s crystalline sphere. The mage’s complexion had grown parchment white, but unlike Lemual, Valkyn’s expression was filled with anticipation, not dread.

The general stepped beside the spellcaster, his gaze on the immense castle. From up here, Cadrio could admire its size better, a fortress that spanned the length of several dragons. How massive an army Cadrio could station within the walls, how many months of supplies could he store in its depths …

The earth beneath his feet started to tremble.

The horses, all save Valkyn’s monstrous beast, struggled against their reins. The two gargoyles took to the air, hovering a few feet above the ground. Even the lanky general had to struggle to keep his footing as the tremor grew stronger. Only Valkyn and Lemual seemed immune, but the latter lived a terror of his own, his hands black from the heat. Now the cleric looked as if he wanted to remove them from the spheres but could not.

A sound like rolling thunder came from the direction of Atriun.

Valkyn and the cleric continued to mutter. The mage looked more undead than human, his flesh colorless, streaks of gray spreading through his hair. General Cadrio had never personally witnessed so harsh a spell.

The rumble grew to a roar, and cracks began to materialize in the landscape surrounding the castle. The tremor wreaked havoc on the rest of the countryside as trees collapsed and hillsides broke in half. Birds shrieked, and although the day had only been slightly overcast before, a dark, threatening cloud cover now formed above the building. Thunder from those clouds vied with the terrifying roar from the earth below.

“Do it!” the general muttered. “Do it!”

Slowly Castle Atriun and the land directly around it rose. Only a few inches, but it rose.

Valkyn shouted a single word, then returned to his muttering. Lemual, slumped over the tripod, said nothing.

The great fortress rose a little more. A raging storm now spread far beyond the confines of the outer walls, stretching toward Cadrio and the others. Lightning set ablaze a small wooded area to the north. A mad wind drove Cadrio’s men back. Even the gargoyles found it impossible to maintain their positions. Only Cadrio, Valkyn, and Lemual remained at the very top of the ridge.

Valkyn shouted once more, his words stolen by the wind.

Lightning assailed the outskirts of Castle Atriun, striking the already crippled ground again and again. Tons of earth flew into the air, moments later bombarding the surrounding earth. The area below resembled the worst of battlefields. Cadrio almost expected to hear the cries of the dying.

The bolts continued for one minute, two, then three. Cadrio knew of the power needed to fulfill this spell, but nothing had prepared him for this. It amazed him that the man at his side had managed this much success. Yet it would mean nothing unless Valkyn followed through to the end.

The ebony-robed mage fell to one knee. Anxious, Cadrio reached for him, but even though Valkyn could not have seen him, the wizard shook his head, clearly rejecting any assistance.

And then a sound that made even the striking of a hundred bolts seem mute in comparison sent the general sprawling. For a horrible moment, he saw only blackened sky. Somehow, though, Cadrio struggled to his feet and refocused on the castle.

He saw a gaping hole where the citadel had once stood. The hole sank some great distance, a chasm vast enough to hold a lake. In fact, he could see some of Atriun’s moat draining into the tremendous abyss in a futile attempt to fill it.

Above him, thunder rumbled.

Heart pounding, General Cadrio looked skyward … and witnessed the culmination of his voyage to this backwater province.

High above, the storm gathered around it like some mad cloak, floated Castle Atriun. A corona of lightning revealed the full extent of the dark castle, including the massive island of earth attached below. As Cadrio watched, great chunks of rock and dirt broke free, dropping to the ground below with catastrophic consequences. Here and there he could also make out open passages in the earth that no doubt led to some of Atriun’s lower levels.

Valkyn had proven as good as his word; he had brought forth unto Ansalon a new and terrible flying citadel. The eager commander had only to gaze up at the unsettling storm raging around the fortress to know that this citadel was different from its predecessors. Surely Valkyn had filled Atriun with many, many surprises.

Recalling his erstwhile ally, Cadrio turned around, only to see a figure in black sprawled nearby. Fear momentarily took hold of the vulpine officer, fear that he would be left with no one to explain to him how to control the flying citadel. Then Cadrio realized that the body belonged to the insipid Lemual.

Valkyn materialized next to the cleric’s limp form and bent over him. After a minute’s examination, the mage rose. “Poor Lemual. Still, he served his function.”

“He’s dead?”

“I was fairly certain it would happen, not that I thought to worry him with that knowledge.”

The storm had abated somewhat and withdrawn to the near vicinity of the hovering castle. Lemual forgotten, Cadrio eagerly asked, “Will it do as you said it would?”

Valkyn smiled. “Do you still doubt me?”

“No! Only one more question, friend mage. How do we retrieve it? Should I summon Murk and Eclipse to bring us up?”

“If you wish them incinerated. As incompetent as they are, you might yet find some use for them. In fact, I would recommend that any dragon would be better served staying clear of Atriun. As to your first question, I have dealt with that matter already. You see the central tower?”

Cadrio peered up at the aforementioned tower, recalling the shadowy figure within. “He’ll bring it down?”

“Well, not exactly.”

Valkyn held the wand up, muttering at the same time. The storm all but faded, turning into a few grumbling clouds with occasional flashes of lightning. The flying citadel began to descend toward the ridge. The ominous shadow that covered Cadrio and the rest caused unease among his men, who probably feared the immense structure would suddenly drop on their heads.

Several gargoyles, including Stone and Crag, fluttered over to Valkyn. The general expected them to land, but Crag instead seized his master by the waist, pulling him up. Stone retrieved the tripod, taking less care than earlier. The other gargoyles seized Valkyn’s steed and, in a vision both absurd and remarkable, lifted the animal gently from the ground.

Only then did Cadrio realize that they were all heading for the flying citadel, which still floated beyond his grasp.

“Valkyn! Blast you, Valkyn! What about me?”

Crag abruptly turned so that the hooded mage could look down. “You see what I’ve brought to you, my general! Now return to your waiting vessels and sail toward the western half of the New Sea! Seek out the island seaport of Norwych! Do you know it?”

Furious, Cadrio barely paid attention to the question. The mage had made him sail through hazardous waters to reach this obscure place, then, after revealing this monumental weapon, wanted him to sail back to a city nearly as large as Gwynned and almost as well defended! “You promised me the citadel, Valkyn!”

The wizard had the audacity to look annoyed. “Surely you do not use a weapon before testing its capabilities, my general!” When Cadrio did not answer, Valkyn added, “The seaport of Norwych! I suggest you sail toward it as fast as you can!”

With that, Crag turned and flew Valkyn toward the waiting citadel. Above the soldiers, gargoyle after gargoyle returned to Castle Atriun. Cadrio thought of summoning the two black dragons and taking his prize by force, but then recalled Valkyn’s warning.

Exasperated, he whirled on his men. “Mount up! We must return to the ships quickly! Anyone lagging will be whipped!”

As his retinue prepared, Cadrio mounted his own steed, then took a moment to survey the gaping pit and storm-ravaged earth left by the launching of Atriun. “I will look down upon my empire from your creation, Valkyn, my ally,” he whispered, “and I will do it whether or not you live to enjoy the fruits of my reign!”

He kicked his mount hard, sending the beast forward at a rapid clip. Behind him frantically rode his personal guard, each man knowing that the general would live up to his threat.

Left in the wake of grand ambitions, the body of Lemual, without whom either the mage or the warrior could have dared continue their respective quests, lay forgotten.

* * * * *

“What is it you want, human?” the gold leviathan grumbled.

Tyros kept his dismay in check, pretending that the thunderous voice of the dragon had not nearly sent him fleeing from the cave. He had come this far and would not be turned back before he had made his request clear. The dragon rider who had led him here had thought the mage a suicidal idiot but had agreed to take him because of Captain Bakal. From there, the man had told Tyros, it would be up to the dragons whether the wizard returned alive.

As a spellcaster, and especially one wearing red robes, Tyros knew that he faced the leviathan already under a cloud of suspicion. Yet despite Sunfire’s distrust of the followers of Lunitari, and of a certain proud mage in particular, he had to make the dragon understand the importance of the quest. Surely such an intellect as the gold’s would immediately realize it.

“I want you to help me find Leot, the White Robe, and another mage who disappeared during the battle. I want you to help me find the citadel and its masters before they return in force.”

A curious and very undragonlike expression graced the giant male’s reptilian features as he listened. After a pause, Sunfire laughed.

“I had known of your arrogance prior to this, human,” he roared, nearly bringing down part of the ceiling, “but I had never understood its depth until this moment! But a handful of humans ever dare to come to this place, and most come for either our imagined hoard or in response to our summons. I cannot recall the last time one sought to invite us on a quest.”

He laughed again, forcing Tyros to cover his ears. It did no good to try to back out of the cave in order to lessen the effect, for the dragons’ home had no ledge. To reach the mouth, the determined spellcaster had been forced, with the dragon rider’s aid, to climb fifty yards of sheer rock face.

The male gold lay curled up before Tyros, near enough to snap up the human, robes and all. Of Glisten, Tyros had seen no sign, for which he felt disappointed. Females had always been more kindly toward him, and the handsome mage had thought that perhaps Sunfire’s mate might be no different.

Still, Tyros didn’t give up. “You might also find those two black dragons.”

“Them? Upstarts! Honorless lizards!” Dragons considered “lizard” the ultimate insult among their kind. “Twins of darkness, those two! My Glisten still suffers pain in her wings from the wounds they inflicted on her. Look here.” He turned his reptilian visage so that Tyros could see his left profile. A series of jagged scars, still fresh and red, left no doubt that the black dragons had not been entirely outclassed.

“Their master must have kidnapped the other wizards,” Tyros insisted. “Perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone.”

“Or two black dragons with one breath?” returned the gold.

“Or that.” All dragons had breath weapons, be they fire, poison gas, or ice. Gold dragons, considered by many, themselves included, to be the most superior, could utilize either flame or deadly chlorine gas. The black beasts, though, had their own weapons, scalding acid chief among them, as Glisten had discovered.

“It would be nice to sink my claws into the throats of those two …” the scaled behemoth mused.

Tyros’s hopes rose. Perhaps the gold dragon had seen the merit of his plan. “They headed to the southeast. I believe that they may have entered the New Sea and-”

“And I will not be going with you, mage.” The male frowned at the human’s disbelieving visage. “Did you think me so readily swayed? I have as many reasons to reject your proposition as I do to endorse it, and chief among the former is your own self. I know something of you, Mage Tyros, and what I know I do not like. Your self-serving reputation is matched only by your ego. In addition, you choose to wear the crimson robes of the most waffling of magical orders, those mortals who would claim to follow Lunitari, but, if the whim presented itself, could readily slip into robes of night!”

“I would never do that! I donned these robes because of the freedom of choice they give, but-”

Sunfire snorted, enveloping the human in a puff of smoke. Tyros coughed, nearly suffocating. “Too many of your kind shift to the darkness, little man! Had you worn the robes of light, such as good Leot, I might have considered your petition.”

“But in the end,” interrupted a smoother, feminine voice, “we would have rejected it. We have to reject it.”

From the depths of the cave emerged Glisten. Her scales had been marred by burns, yet still the female dragon presented an awe-inspiring spectacle. Sleeker and slightly smaller than her mate, she moved with grace, while Sunfire moved with muscle.

The male swung his head to look at her. His tone became much more gentle. “You should not be up. This is the most precious of times for you.”

“I am not a fragile egg, my love.” The moment she finished the statement, though, a strange change came over the coloring of Glisten’s face.

Suspicious, Tyros studied her. The female seemed not so sleek as he recalled her from the past. During the battle, his mind had been on the moment, but now Tyros noticed that Glisten looked swollen.

“He knows,” she remarked.

The mage hadn’t realized she had been watching his inspection of her. “My apologies, fair lady … but also my congratulations! Such a wondrous event-”

“The smooth tongue of Tyros Red Robe,” Sunfire muttered. “Yes, human, my mate is ready to lay eggs, the first eggs I know of for one of my kind since we awoke!”

“I had … I had eggs before that.…” Glisten whispered, almost to herself.

“Think not on those, my love!” The male’s sudden outburst shook the cave again, forcing Tyros to protect his head. Sunfire focused on the tiny figure. “Perhaps for the safety of our eggs and the pleasure of many in the city, I should devour this intrusive wizard!”

“No!” Glisten swatted her mate on the side, more a gentle tap than an actual strike. Sunfire snarled but acquiesced. The female’s gaze met that of Tyros. “He will not tell anyone.”

“I swear by Lunitari and my life that I will not, my lady!”

Glisten seemed happier, but Sunfire still looked distrustful. She rubbed her head against his, causing the male to relax. “It probably does not matter. Many know of my condition already.”

“The dragon riders we can trust. Elfrim is a man of honor.”

“Yes, but some others in the city know, and surely those twin devils we fought will have recognized my condition!”

“Them!” A dangerous look reappeared in Sunfire’s eyes. “Perhaps I should risk going with this impetuous fool! I’ll tear their throats out for what they did.”

“I need you here!” Glisten interjected. “We need you here.”

The male looked at her swollen form. “So you do.” To Tyros, he said, “For your concern for Leot, I commend you. From what I had heard of you, it surprises me that you had even this one friend. Yet I will tell you, as I told the female who came here earlier, this is not the time for quests for either my mate or myself. You must deal with this matter yourself.”

Sunfire shifted his attention to Glisten. Tyros felt great disappointment at being turned down, but he could not blame them. Dragon eggs were rare, though only a few people seemed to know why. Tyros had heard rumors but nothing believable.

He started back to the mouth of the cave, hoping that the dragon rider would still be waiting to help with his descent. Yet a question arose, one that the disappointed spellcaster had to ask no matter the danger to him. “Excuse me, great lord!”

Sunfire whirled on him. “I think I have excused you enough, Red Robe! Be off with you!”

“Just one question. The woman who visited you … can you tell me anything about her?” Few people would dare to come here unless on a task of great import, which had made Tyros suspicious as to the other adventurer’s identity.

“She had better manners than you, that I can say, but one would expect that of a cleric! Now, begone before I forget my mate’s condition!”

The golden leviathan puffed a vast cloud of smoke toward him. Tyros immediately departed, knowing that he had reached the end of Sunfire’s patience.

He barely noticed the descent, his thoughts on the dragon’s refusal and the interesting knowledge that the scarlet-tressed cleric had been there. Tyros wished he could have asked Sunfire more about her request. All the frustrated mage could do now was consider his next move. The trouble was, he had no next move. Tyros had made the journey up the mountain with the assumption that Sunfire would agree. Though the dragon had hinted that he wanted to go after the two black beasts, Glisten’s condition meant that Tyros had nothing to show for his efforts.

Captain Bakal awaited him as he reached the base. “Brought him back alive, eh, Elfrim?”

The dragon rider, a slim man, possibly with elf blood, eyed Tyros with a cool expression. “Didn’t think so for a while. Sunfire didn’t like him. Couldn’t make out a word from where I was, but I thought I’d be climbing down alone.”

“Yeah, I thought the same.”

“Well, I am alive, as you can see,” the indignant wizard pointed out.

“And no farther with your plan,” Bakal returned. “I’ve got the horses ready. We can still make the gates before nightfall if we leave now … unless you’d like to try again up there?”

Tyros felt rather than saw the dragon rider’s smirk. Shaking his head, he went to his mount, who seemed to stare at the mage with contempt.

“Why do you ride with me, Bakal?” he asked as they rode off.

“Because you might get lost otherwise?”

“You know what I mean.”

The battle-scarred officer rubbed his chin. “Good question. You’re arrogant and ambitious and have both qualities in abundance. But I knew Leot, too, and liked the boy even though he was a mage. He was always defending you, only the gods know why. Leot also did me a favor, one that I owe him for. Owe him a lot.”

“Leot helped you?”

“Yeah, but don’t ask what! I’ve tried to pull a few strings for you here and there because of him … not that it’s done much good. Oh, and I do think you’re right about Gwynned still being in danger.”

“Is there anyone you can still turn to? Any of your superiors?”

Bakal spat to the side. “Don’t expect them to do too much for me, either. My reputation isn’t much better than yours with some. They’ll let me do what I think right so long as it doesn’t interfere with the scheme of things!”

“So we’re essentially on our own.” Tyros stared at the path ahead. Fools ran Gwynned, and if the city fell, it would be their fault, not Tyros’s. He considered departing for better climes, leaving the people to their fates.

They arrived in the city at sunset. Bakal bade him a weary farewell, explaining that he had some tasks that he couldn’t escape. “Someone claims to have seen a kender within the walls. We’ve spent manpower and money trying to make certain it’s not true. People in the market district are afraid to leave their stalls and shops!”

Tyros had met a kender once and recalled vividly how frantic he had felt after discovering afterward that half his pockets had been emptied by the short, slim creature. Most races considered kender thieves, although Tyros saw them more as magpies, creatures who stole items out of curiosity and habit. That, of course, did not mean that he wanted them in Gwynned.

With the tower gone, the mage had been forced to seek temporary lodgings at a reputable inn. While the owner had not been pleased to have the spellcaster, Tyros’s money had changed his mind. Naturally Tyros had been given the darkest, most obscure room, but that had suited him. It gave the wizard the solitude he needed.

In the market, Tyros bought food, simple fare in order to keep his brain sharp. As he entered the inn, the pock-faced, teen-aged son of the owner looked up from his sweeping, his expression shifting from disinterest to knowing grin. Tyros frowned, and the boy return to his task. The mage looked around, noticed one or two men eyeing him with speculation, but they turned their gazes away immediately when he stared back.

Tyros journeyed upstairs, slightly irritated. The rabble below recognized him as a mage, and no doubt rumors had already started as to what he did in his room. He wondered if he would have to begin looking for different lodgings in the morning.

Reaching his door, the tired mage checked to see if his security spell remained intact. Anyone trying to enter would leave an afterimage of himself once Tyros spoke the proper words. It was a spell that had come in handy over the years.

The first image didn’t surprise him. The pock-faced boy, his face revealing both fright and excitement. Disappointment had no doubt been his next emotion when he had found the door unyielding. Tyros always made certain to use a second spell to seal both the door and single window.

A second image appeared. One of the men seated downstairs. Tyros had seen him before, a fellow lodger with expensive tastes. Anger filled the bearded man’s face. A thief. Tyros made a note to find an appropriate way to teach the miscreant the danger of trying to steal from his betters.

No other images appeared. Satisfied, the tall mage whispered a few words, then safely entered his darkened quarters. He muttered another word, one that should have set the single oil lamp on his table ablaze.

Nothing happened.

“Allow me,” a low, feminine voice offered.

Light, soft green light, filled his tiny abode. Tyros blinked, his eyes adjusting quickly. A woman sat on his bed, a woman with cascading red hair and jade eyes, clad in a yellow robe with bright emerald trim that did not at all conceal her shapeliness. The light she had produced came from a sphere that floated an inch or two above her exquisite palm.

Tyros smiled. “Good evening-”

Her look precluded pleasantries. She cut him off, stating in a determined voice, “I understand that Cadrio has been here.”